


Ready For Combat

by wordsliketeeth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Marking, Multi, Shower Sex, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: Kiyoshi is the antithesis of Hanamiya, the white facing black, the right versus wrong. If Hanamiya is the plunge then Kiyoshi is the net that breaks your fall, yet somehow, they create the perfect balance when working together.
Relationships: Hanamiya Makoto/Kiyoshi Teppei, Hanamiya Makoto/Kiyoshi Teppei/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Ready For Combat

You think you're home alone when you step into the shower and close your eyes. You revel in the steam that clouds your senses and the heat that promises to soothe your aching muscles, at least momentarily. It doesn't take long for you to lose yourself in the simple pleasure and a myriad of thoughts, therefore, missing the sound of the shower door coming open.

By the time you recognize the brush of cool air from the room slip into your makeshift sanctuary, it's too late. You start as fingertips trace the delicate curvature of your spine and shudder through a chill that chases the touch. Gooseflesh prickles all along your skin despite the heat warming your body, responsible for the flush overriding your natural complexion.

You crack open your eyes but you're forced against the cool tile wall face-first before you have a chance to steal a glimpse at who's in the shower with you. You feel the gentle scratch of fingernails against the line of your scalp, the contact contradicting the action that quickly follows. Your head is yanked back until your neck is straining with tension, and when you exhale a gasp as light as the vapor circling your frame, two fingers brush your bottom lip and enter your mouth.

A pair of strong hands glance your hips before wrapping around your waist. They're large and calloused, pulling you into a tight embrace that bespeaks just who they belong to. You're suddenly sure of whose fingers are pressing firmly against your tongue, and you would smile if not for the warm digits compromising your ability to do so.

“How could you forget about us, ____?”

You know that voice better than you know your own: silky and dark, rife with a sweet-rich possessiveness that matches his favorite confection and makes you go weak in the knees. It's a sound that warms your body and imbues you with pleasure, leaves you vulnerable and wanting. It's a voice that can make you fall apart with just words, no physical contact, no visual assistance, just sound.

Hanamiya keeps his fingers in your mouth but relocates to face you directly. He wedges a knee between your legs and forces you to open up to him without warning, leaving you to scrabble for purchase despite Kiyoshi's firm embrace. A low sound breaks in Hanamiya's throat that spreads to a deep chuckle that fills your ears, and for a brief moment, you're tempted to sink your teeth into his skin. However, you know the punishment that would follow wouldn't be worth it so you comply, grudgingly, and swirl your tongue around his salt-damp fingers.

“Don't be so cold, Makoto.” This voice wraps a blanket around the icy intonation that preceded it. The warm nature that Kiyoshi maintains has always been appreciated, a breath of fresh air against the suffocating hands that his paradoxical partner offers. Kiyoshi is the antithesis of Hanamiya, the white facing black, the right versus wrong. If Hanamiya is the plunge then Kiyoshi is the net that breaks your fall, yet somehow, they create the perfect balance when working together.

That being said, something tells you that the look they're sharing is anything but contradictory. Occasionally, their interests twine together like the ropes that bind you in the darkest hours of the night. At times like these, limitations know no bounds and repression becomes a thing of the past. Who they are slips into what they want and Kiyoshi is no exception to this fact.

Hanamiya teasingly removes his fingers from your mouth, his cool fingertips catching on your lower lip and dragging it into a pout. There's a dangerous smile on his lips and his eyes are flinty and dark, shadowed by the individual chips of stone that turn them into a turbulent billow of storm clouds. He keeps his gaze pinned on your face but the question that shapes his lips is directed at Kiyoshi. “Why not? Our pet likes it rough.” He licks his bottom lip, catching water droplets on his tongue. “Don't you?” he asks you, his tone like crystallized honey.

The arms hugging your waist pull you closer, the callouses on Kiyoshi's hands grazing your skin like a rough and hungry kiss. You tremble and chase the sensation to the electricity that branches through you. It starts in your chest and fizzles out somewhere between your knees. Your stomach has become a breeding ground for butterflies, a kaleidoscope of anticipation and longing that beats against the bones that protect your heart and lungs.

You manage a shallow breath before a combination of lips, tongue, and teeth begin to explore the smooth column of your throat. Their kisses are wet and insistent, promising bruises in shades of autumn and a fever that tastes like summer. Hanamiya's bites are harsher but Kiyoshi's teeth are sharper, something that surprised you at the start of your relationship.

Hanamiya is always quick to relinquish restraint when he's with you, seeing it as needless and a waste of precious time. His hands find your more impressionable parts with ease, your body like a map he drew himself. His actions are calculated, meticulous, as if they each have a distinct purpose. Even now, as he drags his nails over regions that call forth a delicious amalgamation of pleasure and pain, he's deliberating his next move.

Hanamiya's touches have never been tender like Kiyoshi's, instead, they leave your body aching in the best way imaginable. Contrarily, Kiyoshi's ministrations are less studied, offhand, and spontaneous. That's not to say that his treatment is inferior to Hanamiya's, oftentimes his gentleness is the kind of affection you need after a premeditated session—if he doesn't lose himself in the moment, that is. Kiyoshi is stability where Hanamiya is variability but there have been a few times when Kiyoshi has crossed the line between control and collapse.

Notwithstanding Kiyoshi's evident eagerness and anomalous caresses, that's neither here nor there. You're so desperate for friction at this point that nothing else matters. You're writhing between them, keening like a cat in heat, and begging for contact where it counts the most. But all your show of desperation earns you is an open hand against your wet cheek. The sharp smack leaves a stinging sensation in its wake but it lacks the shock value it once did. It's all a part of the game and it's plain to see that you're standing in the center of a competition.

“I'll call a timeout if you don't learn how to practice patience,” Hanamiya threatens, his fingers tugging at your turgid peaks in tandem. “It'd do you good to remember who sets the pace here.”

You nod and press your lips together in bitter resolve while trying to ignore the ache thrumming a song of need between your thighs.

“I can think of several things more interesting than a timeout,” Kiyoshi says smoothly. He pulls you flush against his chest and places a soft kiss just behind your ear. You catch the smirk on Hanamiya's lips and before you can prepare yourself for it, Kiyoshi shifts his touch to your shoulders and pushes you to your knees. Water runs between your joints and trickles down your back but you could be in the middle of a rainstorm for all the attention you're lending your surroundings because Kiyoshi is easing the familiar shape of his cock past your lips. The firm heat fills your mouth and you can taste salt on your tongue as you begin to work him down to the back of your throat.

You can hear Kiyoshi say something but it gets lost to the spray of water and the static humming in your ears. Hanamiya chuckles and Kiyoshi shifts and you don't need to see beyond what's right in front of you to know that they're sharing a heated kiss.

They're breaking rules and changing the game but it's a contest that needs no victor because ultimately, each of you was vanquished the night you joined forces.

Speaking for yourself, it's the kind of loss that you can swallow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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